More Than Just a Doctor
by TheMusicBullet
Summary: My idea of the initial reaction to Dr. Kroger's death. They didn't really talk about it on screen, so I decided to write this.


Adrian Monk started out his day just like all his others. Wake up, wash hands, floss, take shower, floss, brush teeth, wash hands, dust, wash hands, clean for two hours, wash hands, floss, make breakfast. All this happened before seven o'clock, in the same order every single day. Then, he gave himself an hour to relax, which never happened because he always happened to notice that something wasn't completely straight or aligned perfectly. Today was no exception. As the hour hand landed on eightt, he thought, _Time for Natalie to arrive_. He watched as the clock's second hand slipped slowly by. Then the minute hand. Ten minutes passed, and he began to worry. _No. No, no, nonoNO! She's leaving me! I know it! Everybody leaves me! Sharona, Trudy, my own father! _No, he wasn't worried, he was only panicking. At 8:13, the door opened and Monk threw his hands into the air with relief. "Thank God!" he said. "I thought you weren't coming!"

Natalie sighed with exasperation as she shut the door. "Mr. Monk," she said, "You know I always come back! Julie was a little late for school, so I had to drive her. Luckily, the school's not very far away, so I was only around ten minutes late."

Monk went nuts. "Thirteen!" he cried. "Thirteen! If you HAVE to be late, at least make it a decent number!"

"Mr. Monk-" Natalie tried to interrupt. But he wasn't listening.

"Thirteen! I'm the unluckiest person I know. That horrible number proves it. I always get stuck with thirteen! Did you know that in India, the word for fourteen sounds like the word "death?" I'm going to die!"

"Mr. Monk!" she finally shouted. That got his attention. "Captain Stottlemeyer called me on my way down. There's been a murder. It's-" she cut off, not wishing to finish her sentence.

Monk looked at her with curiosity. "What? Something wrong?"

Natalie tried to cover up. "Nothing. It's nothing. Just that it's... oddly coincidental, that's all."

_She's hiding something,_ he realized. Then he voiced that particular opinion out loud.

"No," Natalie said. "Why would I-" She stopped, seeing the look on his face. "Alright," she relented. "how did you know, detective?"

"You always do that when you're hiding something _really _important," he said. "I mean, you always brush your hair off to side, even though it's fine the way it is."

Natalie sighed. "Of course. You _are_ THE Detective Monk. Let's go." They got in the car.

As they drove through town, Monk asked, "So what is it? What are you hiding?"

"Captain Stottlemeyer said you can sit this one out if you want, Mr. Monk. It might be too... You know, emotional," she cautioned.

Monk's curiosity would not be sated. "Just tell me, Natalie; I won't die."

"No, we're already here. You'll see."

As they got out of the car, the detective turned his attention to the sight before him. He stopped in his tracks when he recognized it.

"Trudy..." he whispered. It was the parking garage where his wife had died. Killed by a car bomb. There were black tendrils of smoke curling out of the sides, and he felt like his was stomach was twisting into a knot. He could identify the smoke as belonging to a bomb. He could tell. Adrian Monk's mind transported him back to the scene of that fateful day, many years ago. "No..."

"Mr. Monk?" Natalie put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Still he just stood and stared with a forlorn expression on his face. "That's it. You're going to Dr. Kroger. You can't handle this case." Natalie fretted. She steered him back to the car...

"Trudy!" Monk yelled. He broke free of Natalie's grip and ran across the street to the parking garage, almost getting hit by a truck along the way.

_No, no, NO! She can't die again! I can save her! _he thought. He wildly hoped that _just maybe_ it had all been a bad dream, that she was still alive, that he could save Trudy from her fate. "Trudy! We'll get you to the hospital this time! Trudy! Don't die, Trudy!"

.

Captain Stottlemeyer was examining the dead body, looking for clues that he might have missed. Of course, it was usually Monk's job to do that, but it looked like he was running a little late. _Maybe he decided not to come after he heard what this was about. _he mused. Of course, he couldn't blame him. It _was _pretty similar to Monk's own wife's death. Albeit it wasn't a car bomb; it was a bomb disguised as a package from the mail.

He suddenly heard fast footsteps echoing throughout the empty garage. He looked around and spotted a figure running madly towards him, shouting. "What the hell?" he muttered. As the figure got closer, he heard him yelling, "Trudy!"

"Damn it, Monk!" he yelled. "It's not her! It's not Trudy!" Monk slowed down, and eventually came to a stop. "C'mon, Monk." he said, and gestured to his car. "I'm pretty sure you can't handle this. Just sit down and relax." He walked over to his car and removed two folding chairs from the trunk.

Monk just stood there, shaking his head and looking dazed. Natalie soon arrived and gently coaxed him to sit down, although she had to clean it with a wipe first. After a bit, he snapped out of it. Weeelllll, he _slid _of of it. Slowly. "I- I... I thought I was back... Y-you know..."

"Yeah, Monk. Are you okay, now?" Stottlemeyer asked him. "You know, you can go home, if you want."

Monk hesitated for a long moment, then said, "No. I'm fine. I just... I'm fine. I just wanna go see Dr. Kroger again later. Maybe I could try to find a two-hour slot..." He stood up and began to look at the crime scene, framing with his hands like he usually would.

The captain's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered. As he listened, his brow furrowed with increasing worry. "Oh my God... Will he be okay? ...Oh, God, that's terrible... My condolences... We'll all miss him. Thanks for letting us know... Alright, I'll tell him... Okay, goodbye." He ended the call.

While Monk was preoccupied with the crime scene, Captain Stottlemeyer sidled up to Natalie and whispered in her ear. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, shocked. "That's terrible. How do we tell Mr. Monk? It'll crush him..." The two watched him gather information and clues for the homicide for a while before intervening.

"Um, Mr. Monk?" Natalie gently tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around to face them. "There's something we need to tell you."

"Yes? He asked, a smile on his face. "I think I know where this man was, right before this happened. See-" he broke off, seeing the concerned looks on his friends' faces. "What's wrong? Is Randy sick? Is that why he's not here today?"

"No, Monk." Stottlemeyer said. "Randy's fine, he just didn't come. I asked him to stay at headquarters and take care of a big load of paperwork."

"Then what's wrong?" Monk asked, the smile gone from his face.

"It's Dr. Kroger," Natalie said.

"What's wrong with Dr. Kroger?"

"Mr. Monk, could you sit down, just for a minute?"

"Why? Did something bad happen? I- I think I can handle bad news."

"Just sit down," Stottlemeyer said. "You didn't handle bad news so well when... Never mind. Just do it."

"Fine." Monk sat down in the folding chair, but got back up again, restless, unable to relax at a time like this.

Captain Stottlemeyer tried to break it to him gently. "Monk, you know people don't last forever. Not even you, and you haven't been sick a day in your life. Well, mostly." He could see sweat beading on his friend's brow from nervousness. "Well, what I'm getting at is... This morning, Dr. Kroger had a heart attack."

Monk stumbled over to the folding chair, and fell into it, shocked to the core. "But Dr. Kroger... He... He was fine! I saw him yesterday! He looked as healthy as... Whatever is the healthiest thing on the planet!"

"That would be you, Monk, as far as physical health goes. Although I'm not sure about mental..." he muttered.

"Fine! He looked as healthy as me!" He began pacing furiously. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go see if he's alright! We can still save him if we call an ambulance, right?" he asked. "Right?" He looked back and forth between Natalie and Captain Stottlemeyer, both of them wearing solemn expressions. "Right?" he asked weakly.

Natalie could see the pain in Adrian Monk's eyes, the terror of being left alone in the dark once more, the fear of losing a dear friend. "Mr. Monk," she said, "Dr. Kroger is gone."

He put his head in his hands, denying it. "It can't be true... He- he's- He's _Dr. Kroger__!__"_

"He _was _Dr. Kroger, Monk."

"No, he _is!"_ he yelled. He ran to Natalie's car, almost getting hit by a truck again, and passed out in the passenger seat.

"You should probably take him home." Stottlemeyer observed.

"Well, yeah!" Natalie said. "Where did you think I was gonna take him, to a bar for some fries and a drink? He's unconscious!"


End file.
